Hiding Places
by FlamingRose11
Summary: why is it they kept finding each other whenever they wanted to be alone? if someone was trying to tell them something, he thought, they just needed to lay off. but he had to admit, the unconventional emotions he had were not that bad. D/Hr
1. Chapter 1

**So Dramionie fans, I'm back! i know, i know, what took me so long? right? well I'll tell you. i have had this story around for a few weeks, but i wanted to have enough chapters so that i could surprise you with frequent updates. your welcome! well hope you enjoy it. don't forget the review button at the bottom! **

**~FlamingRose**

She was never one for trains, but when the time came for her to ride one to school every year, she had grown used to the whole thing. She was always antsy on trains. She felt she should move about and be useful, but there was never anything to do. She mounted the train. From all directions she received stares. Stares of awe, malice, envy, even of embarrassment or excitement. She tried to ignore them, but it was difficult. she wasn't used to this. There was a reason Harry was the friend who got all the publicity. She didn't like it. she couldn't handle it. Yes, Harry was her best friend. Yes, she was aware of all that happened at the ministry the year before. No, she didn't want to talk about it, especially not with a member of the press. She hurried past all the stares and ran onto platform nine and three quarters. She knew she would only get more stares here, but she didn't think it would be as bad as the first years and their parents lingering outside the magical threshold. At least she knew these gaping faces. She was wrong. It was worse.

She searched desperately for Ron and Harry. She couldn't find them. She felt holes being burnt into her back from prying eyes. She kept her head down as she walked onto the platform. She saw a flash. Someone had taken a picture. She saw another one. she looked up to find a herd of photographers and reporters, like lions on the prowl, and she was the isolated zebra. She looked about nervously. She took a few steps. They followed her, circled her. one abrupt move and she was going to be ambushed. She slowly and deliberately made her way to the train. She heard whispers. "it's that Granger girl, Potter's friend." "do you really think there is something between them?" "rumor has it they were caught in a broom closet once." She walks in a straight line towards the train. They are closing in on her. she quickens her pace. They match her step. She can't take it anymore. she bolts and takes a run for it. she leaves her trunk with the conductor and just runs. She runs as far and as fast as she can. They follow her. she sprints, and they take after the chase, flashing cameras everywhere, questions from all directions. She won't listen. She jumps onto the train. A few reporters hastily pay students to get information on "The Granger Girl". Without hesitation they run after her with questions. She searches for a place to hide, anywhere. She sees a compartment marked "private", runs in, and locks the door behind her. the blind is drawn and she rests her head against the door, waiting in anticipation to hear the shuffling feet go away. She hears their running and then they keep going, missing her position. She relaxed and the tension in her body was replaced with relief.

"What are you doing in here?" said a sharp voice behind her, "It's labeled private for a reason." She turned around to be faced by Draco Malfoy with a peculiar look on his face as he protectively and tightly held onto his arm as if protecting it from the elements of the cruel world. He had a murderous look on his face that made it clear she was not welcome here. She was shocked and blubbering and lost for words. She didn't expect to see him here, and she couldn't seem to stop staring at his arm.

"I-I um," she stuttered as she tried to collect herself.

"What's the matter with you Granger, can't you talk?" he said harshly. He followed her gaze to his arm and hastily let go of it and moved it to the other side of him so as to keep it out of her view.

"What are you staring at? Never seen an arm before?"

"I'm sorry," she said meekly.

"You should be," he said venomously, "how dare you barge in here." She snapped her head up and stared at him defiantly.

"well I'm just looking for somewhere to sit peacefully. Is that a crime?" it was his turn to be taken aback. He stayed silent. She was satisfied with his shock.

"Well I can understand that," he said softly, looking down at the floor.

"go ahead, have a seat," he said as he gestured to the seat across from him. She looked at him blankly as he returned her gaze steadily and unchanging. She hesitated.

"you, you mean you want me to sit there?" she asked dumbly.

" yes, I don't see why not," he said calmly. She took a few jerking steps towards the seat, not sitting down, and wondering if it was all a joke.

"Are you broken?" he asked her rhetorically, "sit down. You're making me nervous." She sat down on the edge of her seat. She looked nervously at him, and then away, not sure what to do or what to say.

"It's okay, you can relax," he told her as he himself uncoiled and lounged in his seat lazily. She scooted back and rested her back and her head on the cushioned seat. She looked out of the blind of the private room, carefully so as not to draw attention to the window and looked nervously down below at the sea of reporters. It was disgusting, how they were looking in windows, trying to catch a glimpse of a story, any story. The filthy muckrakers. They ought to be ashamed of themselves. She was so preoccupied in staying hidden from the press she did not notice the young Malfoy watching her.

"Is something worrying you Granger?" he asked, with curiosity and almost concern. Her eyes flitted nervously to him and back to the window. She looked like a twitching nervous wreck.

"What are you looking at?" he asked her firmly and with curiosity brimming over the surface. He scooted to the window and peeked out of the blinds. He saw the swarm of people, the amoeba called the press. His eyes looked to her nervous face and back at the swarm of hunters.

"Are they who you're hiding from?" he asked her. she nodded mutely. Her eyes shifted about the room. He let go of the blind letting the view of the press disappear behind it.

"Did they ambush you?" she nodded again, biting her lip.

"What is it they want to know this time?" she shifted her gaze around the room and then back to him. She didn't answer. He studied her face and nodded in understanding. He got up from his seat and opened his trunk. He rummaged through it as if searching for something and then closed it, not finding what he was looking for. She watched him confused and curious of what he was doing as he looked under the seat, on his robes, around the room, on the window, the blinds, the door, the shelves, the small cracks in the compartment, everywhere. Then he turned to her and sort of smiled. not his usual sneer or smirk, but smile. He came towards her. she shifted in her seat not knowing what to expect and fearing the worst. He silently came and sat down next to her leaving an ample amount of space between them respecting her personal bubble.

"It's okay, you can talk." He said, "I checked. No fruit fly animaguses. It's safe." Her lips parted in a small smile. So he knew about that did he?

"so why were they bothering you?" he asked.

"well," she started off softly. She cleared her throat and began again.

"They wanted to know everything, just like they always do."

"Like what?"

"They want to know if I was at the ministry," she said. She looked at him and saw he was patiently watching her waiting for the rest of the story. She continued, her voice getting more hysterical and angry and loud as the list went on.

"they want to know if I knew about any of the things going on in the ministry, did I know anyone the prophecy spoke of besides Harry Potter, could I recognize any of the death eaters who attacked us and were they part of the ministry, were they big influences on the ministry, did they have money, did I have any kind of sexual relationship with Harry Potter, what about that time you were in the broom closet with him Miss Granger? What about the fellow Ron? Do you think Harry is just a publicity scare for Voldemort to get a big splash, a big bang? And my personal favorite, how does that make you feel?"

He looked at her patiently, understanding, amused, and not at all Malfoy-ish.

"well," he said, adjusting his position slightly, "I wouldn't worry about them. Just don't answer. Even though it does make them talk more. I find it works most of the time with a lot of patience. They get bored easily. Short attention spans." He smiled at her like they shared some sort of secret, and she couldn't help but join in with her own smile. His smile was contagious. He studied her face, almost intensely like he was trying to memorize every line and curve. He was closer than she remembered, a little too close for comfort, and she didn't like the way she found herself staring at his own features; his nose, his defined jaw, his soft lips… she sat up and stared ahead and he looked away and down as he repositioned himself to be farther from her. The train jolted to a start and went into motion.

"Why are you being so nice to me?' she asked not looking at him. She thought she heard him sort of chuckle before he answered.

"Honestly?" he asked her. She nodded slightly and hesitantly, not sure whether or not she wanted to hear his answer.

"Because when you ran in here, you looked scared, and frustrated, and tired." He said quietly to her even though he was staring at the ground.

"I've seen that look before. On my mother's face when my dad gets in some kind of press scandal or when I make a fool out of myself."

"I see it on my own face a lot lately." He added softly, barely audible. She turned her head slowly to look at him. His head was hanging down, tired. His shoulders were slumped, tired. His eyes closed, tired. His hands folded loosely, tired. He was so tired. He looked as if he was just tired from whatever happened to him every day. She didn't know what that was, but she could tell it was taking a lot out of him. If not that, then something else, but whatever this thing was it was sucking the life out of him mercilessly.

She reached a hand out, carefully, slowly, cautiously, tentatively. She didn't know what to say, but she felt like she needed to help somehow. Her hand wavered in the air for what felt like forever until she finally decided what to do with it. she softly put her hand on his loosely folded ones. Her hand was so lightly placed there he barely even felt its weight. He looked at her from his position and saw she was still staring at her hand on his, trying to figure out what in all of hell, heaven, earth, and purgatory she was thinking. He looked back at her hand and slowly intertwined his fingers with hers, not sure himself what he was doing or what possessed him to do such a thing. He hated Granger. Why was he doing this? if his father saw him, if any of them saw him right now, he would be dead, but he couldn't help but stroke her hand with his thumb as he intertwined his fingers with hers.

Why she was sitting shoulder to shoulder with Draco Malfoy she couldn't explain. She stared down at their intertwined hands. If any of their friends or family were to find out about this, they would both be dead, and yet, she liked the feel of his hand in hers. She stared at their hands and still couldn't understand why he would take her hand so gently, and why she would allow him to. She knew it was wrong, but she couldn't help but rest her head on his shoulder as she sat shoulder to shoulder with Draco Malfoy.

…..

…..

…

..

.

The steady rocking of the train had lulled them both to sleep. Draco Malfoy was leaning against the window, and sleeping peacefully with her head against his chest was Hermione Granger stretched out on the bench, their hands still intertwined. His arm around her shoulder and his hand holding hers to his heart. Her other hand was tucked underneath her resting on his stomach. The whistle blew, signaling an unexpected stop, and they stirred awake. He only knew he liked holding the girl close to him and she only knew she liked being in the boy's arms, but once they had their wits about them, they realized what kind of position they were in, and they both bolted upright. Their gazes shifted about the compartment, going everywhere except in the other's general vicinity. Draco was the first to speak.

"What the hell Granger?" he said hoarsely, "why the hell did you have to do that?"

"Me?" she said incredulously," you can't seriously think this is my fault! You were the one who was being so nice to me!"

"Me?" he exclaimed, "you seemed to take it quite nicely. I seemed to remember you putting your hand on mine!"

"well you didn't protest! I seem to remember you taking my hand in yours!"

"you didn't pull away either! may I remind you, you put your head to rest on my shoulder, and you were sitting extremely close! Maybe a little too close to comfort!"

"Well I would think you found it quite comfortable seeing as you didn't pull away!" they were silent. What is one to say after all of that. It was clear to see they were both at fault, and they truly had no idea how they had ended up getting so physically close. They both looked awkwardly down at the ground and shifted their weight from side to side as they tried to figure something, anything, out.

"look, Granger, I don't know what happened, I don't really know anything right now," he said gruffly, "but I'm willing to try something." She looked at him skeptically.

"okay," she said cautiously.

"um," he cleared his throat, " I think that er, well, I've learned a lot about you today. More than I ever wanted to know, but I'm glad I learned it anyways. And I think we have both come to an- an understanding, a deeper understanding of one another, so, er, I'll try to keep that in mind."

" I'll try to be kinder to you, you know, not call you mud blood and all that other stuff, no more hexes, and you can be kinder to me, you know, by not hexing me and punching me in the face and stuff." He said as he awkwardly looked at her as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"So er, what do you think?" he asked her, as he looked at her anxiously for approval. She looked skeptically to the side and crossed her arms haughtily, pondering her decision. She looked back to him.

"Would we have to even talk to each other at all?" she asked grudgingly.

"No, no. not at all," he said putting his hands up defensively, " we don't have to be friends, we don't have to talk, we don't have to even look at each other. we just won't be nasty to each other." he looked at her to see her looking back at him with her mouth scrunched up and her brow furrowed in uncomfortable dislike.

"But, you know, I might look at you. I mean, I can't promise that," he said cracking a smile in attempt to lighten the mood and put his hand out for her to shake. She looked at his smiling face. She tried to hold back a smile, but she gave in and took his hand.

"Deal," she said as she smiled back at him. She wasn't planning to smile, but his smile was contagious.

…..

….

…

..

.

The train ride continued and they talked. Nothing much, just small talk. They didn't go into anything deep. The whistle blew again to signal it's stop at Hogwarts and they got up to get off the train. They waited a while until they knew the hall was crowded and then walked out together. They got off the train together and walked in opposite directions. Before he lost her, he took her hand in his.

"You're sure you're going to be okay?" he asked with concern. She gave him a small smile.

"I'm sure," she said, and his features smoothed out in relief. He let go of her hand, letting his fingers linger a little longer on hers before turning away and going in the opposite direction as her. she turned around and found Ron and Harry not too faraway and ran to go join them.

"Hey Moine," said Ron, "where were you? We were looking for you."

"oh, hiding," she said lightly.

"So you found the press too?" said Harry.

"they found me," said Hermione. They nodded in understanding and left it all at that.

Draco watched the brown haired girl walk away with her friends as his own approached him.

"Hey Draco," Crabbe said, " where were you. We told you which compartment we would be in. you said you'd come join us after your dad was done talking to you. What happened? He keep you in that room? Lock you in?" he huffed in amusement.

"Don't be ridiculous," he drawled, " I just fell asleep. It's er, it's been a tiring day. Needed some sleep." They nodded in understanding. Being initiated was sure to take a lot out of a person.

"Come on," he said as they walked towards the carriages and he was their leader once again.

**so how as it? favorite part? least favorite part? let me know. I love your feedback. :) **


	2. Chapter 2

**So Dramionie fans, I'm back! school has started so it may take a little longer to update. that and i got a new computer and that is a mess all on it's own, so be patient with me. :) i am so happy you guys are enjoying my stories1 thank you so much for the reviews. it means a lot that you guys take the time out to give me feedback. i greatly appreciate it. **

**now here's more story. tell me what you think. love it? hate it? favorite part? let me know!**

**~FlamingRose**

Whispers. They're going to be the death of her. She hates how they talk about him. Sure, she used to think the same things about him, but now it was different. You could say she had seen the light, and she saw him differently now. There was no way he could be the monster people have been saying he is. She hates it so much. Then there are the whispers about her. She hates being known as That Granger Girl. She doesn't like it. It makes her cry in the middle of the night on those days she can't take it anymore. She hears it in the hallways, the classrooms, and the great hall. Sometimes she feels not even her dormitory will block them out. She shies away from them, and she hates them. She doesn't like them.

And neither does he. He doesn't like the way he hears the people in his house talk about her. He finds it disgusting. There would have been a time when he would join in, but now he can't. He was disgusted by their attitude. They didn't even know her. Not like he did. Yeah, this was hypocritical. Yeah, he did the same thing to everyone else, but she was different for reasons known only to him. He doesn't worry too much about the whispers about him. They had been around a lot longer than these new ones. He was used to it by now. Tough skin, a sarcastic drawling voice to bring about an apathetic disposition, a venomous insult, and a simple but effective hex was all he had needed for the last five years, and sixth year was not going to be any different. At least, he didn't think it was going to be.

It's only November, but it's starting to seem like she'd been at school so much longer. The days didn't used to drag on like this before. Especially for her. She loved school. What was wrong with her?

School drug on before, but for him it should have gone by slower. He prayed everyday for it to go slower. He was procrastinating as best he could. Yes, he had figured out the whole thing, he knew how to let the death eaters in and out. He understood. He was smart enough; he just didn't want to show it. Not if this was what it meant. Was this what it meant when people said a great mind could a achieve greatness? What kind of worthless no good person would settle for this? He was after all. He didn't like this. He had to get away.

He walked up the winding staircase to the owl tower. He couldn't wait until he got that fresh breeze that he had been longing for all day. He walked through the door and froze when he saw the scene in front of him. Oh why was it they always ran into each other when they wanted to be alone? If someone was trying to tell him something, he just wasn't buying it. He didn't want to be alone with her. They'd made a truce and now he was starting to feel things he didn't like feeling. Wasn't it enough to be at peace? Why did there have to be more? They're didn't have to be more. He just wanted there to be more. He watched her closely and saw there was something wrong. She looked broken. Broken like he had never seen her before.

"Hey," he said softly, "fancy seeing you here." She looked at him with clear eyes.

"I would have put a private sign on the doorway, but I haven't exactly mastered the transfiguration of owl droppings. Then again, I haven't really set my mind to trying," she said. He chuckled.

"I'm sure you could master anything you set your mind to," he said with a smile. Wait; was that just him giving Hermione Granger a compliment? This had to stop or the world was going to end. He could feel it. He stopped for an awkward second and remembered. Private car. Private sign. She wanted to be alone.

"I could go if you want to be alone," he said walking towards the exit.

"No," she said quickly standing up from her perch, "no, you can stay." He turned slowly towards her in confusion.

"Are you sure?" he asked her. She smiled softly with hints of a sad laugh in her voice.

"Yeah, I'm sure." He made his way slowly towards her keeping his eyes on her sad face.

"They're saying things, aren't they?" she said not looking at him but past him, past him towards the woods, past the woods to the first village, past it all, not really there on earth, but elsewhere.

"So you've heard it all too?" he said softly afraid to look at her so he looked down at his hands.

"Of course I have," she said bitterly, "its hard not to when every whisper tends to have some mention of your name, and they're such harsh whispers too."

"Yeah, life sucks like that," he said flatly.

"There's talk about you too," she said softly searching his face for answers to her unasked questions. As soon as she said it, she watched his features harden.

"Yeah?" he said looking out in the same way she had been.

"Yeah," she repeated.

"How much of it do you believe?" he asked.

"None of it," she said passionately, "absolutely none of it." he looked at her not quite sure he sensed the passion correctly or if it was a figment of his imagination. Was Hermione granger actually upset because of something she considered hurtful to him? He was having trouble grasping this concept. It was completely different from their normal bickering.

"That's sweet of you," he said softly, "but I'm afraid a lot of them are probably true. I'm not as good of a person as you are."

"So the rumors…"

"Are probably all true."

"And the talk about you being a….."

"Death eater? True."

"And the talk about the- the…."

"Mark? True." He said avoiding her eyes. He looked away from her, but it wasn't enough. The shame still reached all the way down to his toes. He got up and walked a little bit away from her. He couldn't breathe anymore. It hurt too much. He wished he couldn't breathe at all. Death would be welcome to take him out of this mortifying position.

She got up from her perch and walked towards his standing but slumped form. His regret and guilt was evident. Someone with a conscience this heavy couldn't be as evil and cold hearted as everyone had been telling her lately. She cautiously walked towards him like someone would towards an injured animal. She gently took his left hand and turned him around to face her. She softly guided his arm up towards her and placed her hand on his wrist. He watched her cautiously and curiously. She took hold of his shirtsleeve.

"May I?" she asked him gently. He had been honest with her up to this point, and she with him. Why should he keep this from her now? He nodded slightly. She slowly unbuttoned the cuff and slowly rolled up the sleeve to expose the cursed stain on his arm. She looked up at him with an unreadable expression. He looked away. He couldn't look at her. He couldn't meet her gaze he was so ashamed. She ran her index finger lightly over his forearm, tracing the lines of his mark. "Is this what you were hiding…"

"In the cabin the day you were being chased by the press? Yes. That's why I was so defensive about you looking at my arm." He said quickly and darkly. He didn't like to think about it.

He turned his head curiously watching her. She seemed completely unfazed that the sign of the man who must hate witches like her the most was the owner of such a mark. She wasn't. She just knew that a boy who cared enough for her unjustly wore this stain and was forced to carry too heavy a burden. She put her hands on his arm and bent his arm so that his hand was at his heart. She pressed her left hand against his. He couldn't bear to look at her. He felt like such a traitor. He hadn't felt this way before, or maybe he was trying to repress these feelings about his situation from the beginning and now they were all flooding in at the sign of a weakening in his defenses. He couldn't be sure, but he was sure that he didn't deserve to be touched in such a compassionate way by someone he may have to kill in the future. He felt a soft hand gently touch his cheek. It was her hand pulling him towards her and forcing him to look her in the eye. He felt like a monster, like a heartless monster.

"Draco," she said softly, "do you feel it?" he was perplexed, and his face said so.

"Feel what?" he asked her.

"Your heart. Do you feel your heart?" she asked him, "because I do." she didn't know what it was inside her that had inspired such courage to approach him in such an intimate manner. Maybe it was his honesty, maybe it was the sadness and tortured looks he had on his face, maybe it was the kindness he had shown her, but she felt she had to do something, and this just came so naturally.

He concentrated. He could feel it thumping against his chest, very much alive and feeling.

"You're not heartless Draco," she whispered to him, "you may be a wizard, but you are still human, with human emotions and a human heart." She looked deeply into his eyes, not letting him tear his gaze away.

"And I don't ever want you to forget that." He cracked a small smile.

"How is it you always know the right thing to say?"

"I could ask you the same question."

"I owe you Granger," he said, "but I don't know how I can repay you."

"When the time comes, do what you have to, but until then, call me Hermione." He nodded. So she wasn't naïve. She knew a time would come when they would have to choose sides.

"Okay, I will, Hermione," he said, the last word curling up into a smile. She smiled back at him. She moved his hand away from his heart and rolled the sleeve down over his forearm to hide the mark from view. She gave him a smile before she walked towards the door.

"Hermione," he called to her. My how he liked the feel of her name on his tongue.

"Wait," he said. She turned around and was found wrapped tightly in his arms within seconds.

"Thank you," he said as he nestled his nose in her hair. She nestled into his chest and inhaled happily as she wrapped her own arms around him.

"It's nothing really," she said, "anything for a friend." They pulled out of their warm embrace and he looked at her with an amused glint in his eye.

"So we're friends now?" he asked her.

"Yeah I guess so," she said smiling, "but you know, only in secret."

"But we still get to bicker in the hallways every once in a while right?" he asked, "Because I like that part." She laughed.

"Of course," she responded, "I wouldn't miss it for the world. I mean, how else am I going to have a conversation with you?"

"Friends then?" he asked as he held his hand out for her to shake. She smiled and gladly took it without hesitation.

"Friends."

**don't forget to tell me your favorite part! :DD**


	3. Chapter 3

**So Dramionie fans, I have updated again. Give me those nice and looong reviews that you know I love! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this next bit of story. For those of you who read bickering, let me know if you would like to read some more on that. I have an idea of extending it. Tell me what you think.**

**now here's more story. tell me what you think. love it? hate it? favorite part? let me know!**

**~FlamingRose**

The whispers continued. About both of them. But she got the short end of the stick. The press was invited into Hogwarts. Supposedly so that they could do a cover on the school and it's history, but all they wanted was an inside look into Harry Potter's life and an all seeing expo of his friends. She wasn't going to put up with it. She would fight them if she had to. She just hoped she wouldn't have to.

He walked down the corridors to the room of requirement. He paced in front of it, concentrating on what he needed. He needed the cupboard, he needed the normal clutter, he needed a secret place, he needed….he needed…he needed Hermione. He just needed her to bicker with him, a small squabble as a sign everything was okay. Things seemed to be easier when she was around. He stopped his pacing. It wasn't going to help him. He slowly meandered along the corridors in no direction in particular. Maybe he would stumble across something worth while.

She walked into the great hall in search of her friends. They had to be here. But they weren't. barely anyone was there. And then she noticed why. The press, with their special quills, their cameras, everything. She backed up. The memories of September came flooding back. Only this time she didn't have Draco to help her. she didn't have a private car. One thing she did have though, was a large castle she knew inside and out. she backed up into the hallway. They followed like the predators they were, and she ran like lightening. She ran around the corner, thinking she lost them when she ran into a blockage in the hallway. Strong arms gripped her shoulders.

"Whoa! Running from something?" asked an amused voice. She would know that voice anywhere. She looked up at the blonde and right into his warm and friendly grey eyes.

"Draco!" she said as she threw her arms around him, ""you have no idea how glad I am to see you!"

"You're right," he said baffled, "I don't know how glad you are to see me. You just saw me in potions. What's up?"

"I'm not running from something, but someone. Actually try some ones." She heard footsteps coming.

"The press?" he asked as she tugged at his sleeve to duck behind the hump backed witch. She didn't answer.

"Hermione, why don't you tell me what's going on?"

"SHH!" she commanded him. He fell silent as the footsteps got closer.

"Where the bloody hell did she go?" said a witch with a frustrated sigh.

"Maybe she's hiding around here," said one. Hermione held her breath and clung to Draco's arm. They looked at each other. She was spooked, he could tell that much, but he was having a hard time concentrating on the situation at hand and not noticing their close proximity.

"I don't think so. I say we go this way," said another.

"No! She would have gotten farther than that, let's go straight." They all nodded in agreement and ran straight. Hermione let go of her breath and Draco felt it tickle his ear. She let go of his arm and immediately he felt the absence of her hand. And it freaked him out. What kind of feelings were these, and why was he feeling them for Hermione Granger?

"They're gone," he said, "now where are we going to go?"

"You don't want that explanation?" she asked.

"I already got it, and if they catch you around here they are going to ask you questions. And if they catch _you_ with _me_? Oh ho ho! To put it simply if they catch you with me we are both screwed." He grabbed her hand and ran along the corridor looking for somewhere to hide. There was no doubt in his mind they were going to check classrooms, broom closets, every single tower in the vicinity, everywhere. He ran into the hallway and saw the group of press members grumbling at each other. he ducked back behind a column and waited for them to pass. He ran straight ahead. The room of requirement. He ran up a flight of stairs, up to the room. He knew Hermione knew it well. There wouldn't have to be any explanation. He needed somewhere to hide. He needed a place that was completely relaxing and comfortable for her. He needed somewhere that didn't remind them of their troubles. He needed a place where no one, absolutely no one would find them. He needed a door to get into such a place at this moment in time. hey look! A door! He ran for it and pushed it open glad to find a very comfortable secret room with almost every book ever written, a large window letting light into the room, and comfortable black leather couches set on an oriental rug. Yes, this would do nicely. He closed the door behind them and led Hermione into the room. He looked to her face for approval and guessed he had it. She was staring open mouthed and awed at the endless shelves of books.

"Where are we?" she asked dazed. He chuckled at her silliness.

"Room of Requirement, where else?"

"Oh, haha." She ran to the center of the room, and twirled about looking at every shelf with a huge smile on her face.

"There are so many! I don't know which one to read first!"

"Well we have a couple of hours, I'm sure you can pick out a book in that amount of time."

"But what about the others?"

"You can come back any time," he said, "remember. It's the room of requirement."

"What exactly did you tell the room you required?" she inquired suspiciously.

"oh just somewhere they can't find us, somewhere we can hide, somewhere that's completely comfortable for you, and somewhere you can just forget everything for maybe an hour or so." She looked at him for a second before running to him and jumping into his arms. It took him aback, but he was okay with it. after all, he had a couch to fall into. They tumbled into the comfortable leather laughing.

"thank you so much!" she said over and over again.

"you're welcome," he said to her once she stopped, his face in a permanent smile. She looked at him for a moment, their noses touching, before she gently pressed her lips to his. it was brief, and barely even a second, but it was enough to send fireworks exploding in his mind and left a tingling sensation lingering on his lips. He looked at her with dazed eyes as she smiled broadly at him. She hopped up in a bouncy and jovial manner to scan the titles of the books that lined the walls, and all he could do was sit there, dumbfounded and dazed, with the tingling of the brief meeting of their lips still present on his mouth.

…

He watched her from his place on the couch, hands folded in front of him, her on the rug in the middle of the floor reading a book intently from the pile next to her. every once in a while she would glance up in his direction and smile. He would smile back and then go back to her book while he continued watching her. he had been sitting here with his eyes on her for the last two hours and hadn't lost one ounce of interest in her. He was fascinated by her. every time he thought he knew every inch of her, another secret would appear to him from behind her mysterious fog.

Draco had been staring at her for the last two hours. She felt the heat go to her face, and took the chance to take a glance in his direction, always pensive, and looking right at her. she couldn't tell sometimes if he was looking at her or through her. He was different that was for sure, and he was nothing like she had ever thought him to be. Before, he was one person, but now it seemed that was just a layer, and now all of these layers were peeling back to expose yet another layer of Draco Malfoy. And as for the kiss. Yes. Where had that come from? Overwhelming joy, just pouring out? was that it? Whatever it was, she knew she couldn't deal with a relationship right now, and definitely not with him. She had to make it clear it didn't mean anything, even if it did.

'Hermione," he spoke out, "we have Astronomy in ten minutes. We had better go." She reluctantly closed the book she was reading and got up.

"Okay," she said, "let's go." She walked to the door and stopped abruptly, just before leaving. She had to tell him. I was now or never.

"Look, Draco, about that kiss…"

"yes?" he asked nonchalantly.

"It didn't mean anything, you know, past overwhelming gratefulness. You know what I mean?"

"yeah, perfectly." Sadly, he did. even more so, he couldn't stop the aching feeling from spreading through his chest.

"Really? Good! Because I guess I was just so thankful, you know? And just all of these rushing emotions and the adrenaline and just, it was an impulse. I'm sorry."

"yeah, I completely understand," he strained. He gave her a smile, just to make sure she didn't let on to the fact he was hurt.

"Okay," she said, feeling a little less than good, "so still friends?"

He smiled.

"I'm surprised you have to ask." She smiled and they walked out of the room their separate ways. He said it was okay. He never thought he could flat out lie to her like that, but he had, because if this aching in his chest intensifying so much it hurt to breathe was okay, he didn't really care for the feeling. He would rather feel miserable. Maybe it wasn't as bad.

She walked off in the direction of the astronomy tower, the way he didn't go. It was longer, but it would be worth it if that meant not being next to him. The fact was, now that she had told him it didn't mean anything, she felt this awful feeling creep inside her and settle somewhere between her chest and her stomach. She felt like she had just lied to him, but she couldn't have. The whole point was to clear her head of any consciousness of hurting him, lying to him, not letting that go on. It was to stop….what was the point again of telling him it meant nothing? She couldn't remember anymore.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello everyone! I missed you all! and I have a nice chunk of story jsut for you! rememberto read and review. reviews are like cookies. they make me happy:) so i hope you like this one. more conflict. oh noes! enjoy!**

**~FlamingRose**

The holidays were coming rather quickly. She had to finish a few projects, but other than that she was nearly finished. She still felt bad about the kiss. She didn't want to, but she couldn't seem to shake the incident from her mind.

He was hurt. That's all he knew right now. He was alive, he existed, and he was hurting. He needed something to get his mind off of it. He needed to get his mind off of a lot of things. He heard giggling, and then Pansy Parkinson's fingers running through his hair.

"What do you want Pansy?" he drawled.

"Oh come on Draco," she huffed, "you've been moping around this common room for way too long. I mean, I know your father has you doing all of these terribly great things that just seem to stress you out," she said, her fingers dancing along his shoulders dangerously close to the buttons of his shirt, " but you have got to relax." She bent down to kiss his neck. He hated Pansy right now. He hated how pushy she was. He hated that she was trying so hard. Mainly he hated that she was right. Who was he kidding? There was no way he could be perfectly happy being miserable, and he had been moping too long. And for what? A girl who didn't share the same feelings as he did? A muggle born witch he wouldn't even be friends with if she could have just stayed out of the private car, hadn't held his hand, hadn't made a peace treaty with him, hadn't helped him realize he was human, hadn't touched his mark without fear, hadn't told him to call her Hermione, hadn't kissed him. If only she hadn't told him it meant nothing. Then, for sure, he wouldn't be in this situation. He sighed as he thought about it for a second, if you could even call it that. He stood up and headed out of the common room. He took Pansy's hand.

"Let's go."

Detention. Not because she had to. Because she wanted to. McGonagall promised not to put it on her record, but that yes, if she really wanted to, she could clean her room. She was grateful. After all, she needed something to keep her mind off of this Draco dilemma she had encountered. She couldn't get the sight of his calm face out of her mind. It just didn't look like him anymore. she could almost see the walls rise up more quickly than they had come down, and now, she knew it would probably take a miracle to knock them down a second time.

"Professor McGonagall," she called.

"Yes Miss Granger?"

"Is it alright if I go to get a broom? These floors have way too much dust on them."

"Quickly," said McGonagall. She knew something was bothering the poor girl, but she wasn't going to soften. That would just make it easier for her to think about whatever it was she wanted to avoid. She knew the girl would have to face it eventually, but she wasn't going to make her face it now. Everyone needed a break every once in a while.

She walked down the halls, and of course, thinking about Draco. Against her will of course, but she couldn't seem to help it. the next time she saw him she would tell him how she really felt. She had to tell him that kiss meant something to her, and she hoped it meant something to him. She started reciting possible speeches, but none of them seemed to go right. She was in the middle of thinking up a new one that seemed rather promising when she came to the broom closet she was looking for. She opened it to fetch a broom, but instead of just dust and clutter she was met by two forms joined at the lips in what seemed like a permanent lip lock. She was shocked in complete immobility. Draco with this- this- this- girl. This other girl. A girl that wasn't her.

She looked at him with the most awful face. Something like shock, sadness, anger, and betrayal all wrapped up into one. It hit him at full speed right in his chest, breaking a hole in his defenses where his guilt came flooding back. How could he be so stupid? In a flash she was gone again and the door was closed. He heard Pansy giggle and drag him back to her. He pulled away.

"Pansy," he said, "I can't do this."

"Of course you can," she taunted, "don't be silly." She kissed his neck temptuously. He pulled away.

"No, I can't." he got up from his place in the closet and walked out into the corridor in search of Hermione. Where could she have gone? He turned just in time to see a lock of brown hair disappear around the corner. He ran after her.

"Hermione, wait!" he called, "Hermione hold on!" He took hold of her arm.

"Can you just stop for a minute? Please? Let me explain." She spun around to meet his gaze.

"Explain? You want to explain? Let me save you the trouble Draco. You decided you were going to just go off and have a meaningless make out session with one of the girls from your common room. It's nothing out of the ordinary. I don't see why you would have to explain to me. I don't care what you do with other girls Draco. I'm your friend, not your girlfriend. It's not like we have some kind of secret relationship or anything."

"Secret relationship? What do you think our friendship is? I don't tell my friends I am friends with you, and I doubt that you tell Potter and Weasley what happened between us in the owl tower. You know how they would respond, and so do I. Do you have any idea what they would say? The press would have a field day. You, a brilliant witch and friend of the famous Harry Potter, and I, the son of the Dark Lord's right hand man, and a death eater." He spat the last word with disgust dripping from his tongue like venom. Hermione looked down at her feet. He was right. She hated that.

"Every interaction between us has to be a secret," he continued, "I already risked uncovering our relationship by walking away from Pansy. You have got to understand." He reached out to touch her shoulder, but she shied away from him.

"I do understand Draco. I understand completely. You don't have to be so condescending. And for the record, you didn't have to walk away from Pansy. Don't worry about me," she said coldly with a small brave smile that didn't meet her empty eyes, "I can take care of myself. And you can be with whoever you want." The look in her eyes, no matter how much he searched, was void of feeling, and that pushed another blow to his chest. He didn't like this hurting.

She walked as quickly as she could back to McGonagall's room without running, tears running down her face. She didn't like this. She didn't like the way he made her feel, how he could make her elatingly happy, how he could make her hurt so much she couldn't breathe, how even when he did hurt her, she couldn't help but think about him. She went into McGonagall's room, grabbed a rag, and began to polish the goblets in the cabinet vigorously.

"Miss Granger?" McGonagall called.

"yes?" she responded, not looking up.

"The broom?"

"oh," she said, wiping her tears and standing up as straight as she could to face her professor.

" I decided the floors were okay," she lied. McGonagall nodded. The poor girl had been crying. Whatever it was that was troubling her, she would leave alone. It was not her business, and something inside her told her she had better not know.

"Very well," the teacher said, "once you have finished with those goblets you may go." Hermione gave way to a small smile and went back to thinking about work, but not succeeding. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't help but think of him.


	5. Chapter 5

**So Dramionie fans, I have updated again. Give me those nice and looong reviews that you know I love! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this next bit of story. For those of you who read bickering, let me know if you would like to read some more on that. I have an idea of extending it. Tell me what you think.**

**now here's more story. tell me what you think. love it? hate it? favorite part? let me know!**

**~FlamingRose**

**PS: I think Snape is awesome. Therefore, I have made Snape super awesome. :D **

It was after Christmas, and she hadn't quite gotten up the courage to speak to Draco just yet. It had been a week since they had returned, but still. It was more difficult than she thought. She knew she had to talk to him, and she was adamant about talking to him, but that was before she had caught him snogging Pansy Parkinson of all people. This was going to be difficult.

Christmas was over. Thank God. That had been, if possible, the worst Christmas so far. The last couple of years hadn't exactly been wonderful, but this one had to be the closest one to hell he had yet encountered. He was glad to be back, even if that did mean he was closer to that godforsaken time where he had to carry out his, what did the Dark Lord call it? His destiny? Well right now, his destiny seemed extremely unimportant at the moment. He had to set things straight with Hermione. And he was going to today in potions. He had one more hour. He could possibly deal with that.

She was dreading potions. Not that she never did, but today especially, and a lot more than she had before. She used to look forward to it, being able to see Draco in a normal setting, seeing him, sitting close to him, stealing glances at him and sharing looks. And now, because of every single one of those reasons, she was dreading the class today. She didn't like the idea of having to be in the same room as him for a whole hour. A juvenile dread maybe, but that didn't matter. She couldn't help it.

He walked into potions and sat at his normal spot; across the aisle from Hermione. Taking a quick glance around to double check he was alone, he took out the long stemmed rose he had gotten just for her. It was just the thing for her. it had red gold petals and, with a touch of magic, he had managed to get it to change its colors from red and gold to emerald green and silver once put into the moonlight. It had taken him all of break and a countless number of flowers to master the spell, but he had finally done it. He put it in the nook between the podium style shelf underneath the flat surface of the desk and kept it there before anyone else walked in. he got out his book, set up his cauldron, and waited for the rest of the class to come in. As the room began to fill up, he kept a steady eye on the door. When she walked in, she was smiling and laughing with Potter. It seemed they were a lot closer now that Weasley was spending all his time with that girl Lavender. Draco had been there a couple of times. She was a terrible kisser. Too much giggling too. When she saw him, her beautiful smile faded, and she looked down at the floor. He looked away from the door and stared into his cauldron. He didn't like this. He didn't like this at all.

She sat down at her desk with her eyes focused in front of her and not to her right where a blonde haired boy she really didn't want to look at sat. She didn't want to talk to him. She didn't even want to look at him. Okay, that was a lie. Of course she wanted to talk to him. She was dying to talk to him, and it was hard not to stare at him with complete misty eyes, but fear held her back. She was scared to death of what else would be said about her, what he would think of her, what was running through his head, what would be running through her head, and she was scared of getting hurt again. Though it was already hurtful to see him snogging Pansy, she knew any form of rejection at this point would still hurt just as much, maybe more. Because now she knew no matter how much he hurt her, she would still think of him all the time, still see his face everywhere, hear his voice in her mind, still have the idea of herself with him stuck in her head.

He walked into his former classroom silently. He wasn't happy to be back in this position, but Slughorn was sick with the flu and at his age and size a man couldn't be too careful. Unfortunately he was one of those innocent bystanders that had to be affected by the old man's misfortune. He took a glance around the room to see the students he would have to teach. One caught his eyes. He watched Draco stare at the Granger girl thinking no one was paying attention. The poor boy. He knew that look all too well. A slight sting in his chest appeared as he remembered Lily, but pushed the thought from his mind. It was no time to focus on the past. Right now this boy was in sad shape. He kept glancing in her direction. He knew that look. He was falling for her, and hard. He took one more glance at the boy before clearing his throat and beginning class. As he observed the class he saw the boy glance down under his desk from time to time with an anxious look in the girl's direction. Whatever it was that was in his desk was obviously something he wanted to give to the girl.

"Mr. Malfoy," he said coldly, "would you mind getting my book from the corner of my desk in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. I seem to have forgotten it." he said. Draco nodded submissively and made his way out of the room. Snape began his rounds around the classroom as he had before when he taught this God awful class. As he passed Malfoy's desk he took a glance inside it to find a long stemmed red and gold rose. As he feared. He was falling for her. He put the rose back in its place and walked back to the front of the class to gaze blankly at the students. He watched the Granger girl as she prepared her potion. He was curious to see how she would react as the boy came through the door in the next five minutes. She was focusing intently on the task at hand. Draco walked through the door and he saw him stop just slightly to see if Granger had acknowledged his presence. He gave up and trudged towards his professor and protector.

He placed the book on the desk.

"Thank you Mr. Malfoy," said Snape and watched the girl watch the boy sit down at his desk and look down into his cauldron with no intention of working on it. Her face was painful to see. He was relieved to see the boy would not suffer long. After all, she was aching for him too. He looked down to his book and busied himself with not paying attention. For once he didn't care what happened in the class. It was best he didn't. The less he knew of this exchange of glances, the better. The less he knew, the safer they were, the both of them. They may have been sixth years, but they were only children still. Sixteen was not the appropriate age to have so much on one's shoulders as they did. He left it alone, and waited for the right time to interfere again. The right time turned up five minutes before class ended. He told them to start cleaning up their mess and they did as they were told.

"Miss Granger," he called, "please come here." His stoic gaze gave nothing away as she walked up to the desk with a worried and confused expression on her face. He was sure, being who she was, she was trying to go through the day's events in her head to try to find where she had screwed up.

"Yes professor?" she asked politely.

"Please put all of the ingredients into the potions supply cabinet. If it helps I will add five points to Gryffindor." He added sarcastically. She took the supplies without a word to the cupboard and kept her eyes busy on the labels and placement of the items obviously avoiding any activity being done by the boy behind her. Draco however, unlike his class mates whose eyes were focused completely on their tasks or buried in books, was looking about to make sure no one was watching him as he slipped the rose under Granger's desk. He quickly made his way out of the classroom and slipped out the door towards the Slytherin common room. Granger came back from putting the supplies in the cupboard and got her books. Professor Snape watched as she stopped at the sight of the rose in her desk. She looked at her companions who were waiting for her and nodded at them to go on without her. They took the hint and left. As soon as they left she slipped the rose out from under her desk and delicately touched its leaves and was careful not to prick her fingers on the thorns. She looked at its red gold petals with an awe in her gaze and Severus' mouth twisted into a small undetectable smile. She walked up to her professor and placed the rose on his desk.

"Yes Miss Granger?" he asked.

"Do you, by any chance, know who left this in my desk?" she said softly, almost scared to know the answer.

"Now Miss Granger. You know who put that rose in your desk, but if I were to admit I knew who it was, I would know too much in order to ensure your safety." He leaned forward in his seat and spoke softly to her so only she could hear.

"I know he has shown you his mark. You should know that it is dangerous for anyone to know what you are to him." He sat down and said in a louder tone, "With that in mind, please make your way to your next class." He took his book, stood up, and made his way to his own office. He didn't know that he had shown her his mark, but it was a safe guess. From this moment, he decided, he would rid his hands of this situation. If anyone were to ask, he did not know of anything from the start.

Hermione Granger slipped out of her robes after a long day. Whispers weren't going around as fervently. The press had not come back to Hogwarts, but she had no doubt in her mind they would come back sooner or later. Unfortunately it would probably be sooner instead of later. She got into her pajamas and slipped under her bedding. She turned around to look at her bag on her nightstand that hid the rose she had gotten in potions. She turned over on her other side to avoid the temptation of taking it out and looking at it again. This side wasn't working. She flipped over on her stomach and propped her chin on her pillow to stare out the moonlit window. It was a full moon tonight. She hoped there weren't any younger witches and wizards going out there at this time of night. She had been down that foolish path. It was for good reason, but not recommended all the same. She looked towards her bag again and sighed. She gave up. She reached in and carefully brought out the rose, being mindful of its thorns. As she took the red gold petals to her nose, she witnessed something unbelievable. The colors of the petals swirled into oblivion as they touched the moonlight and were replaced by an emerald green and silver. She watched the transformation with wide eyes. It was gorgeous. He knew her too well. She brought the rose up to her face, letting the petals graze her cheek. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be easy to hate him. She wasn't supposed to be friends with him or anything. She wasn't supposed to be in love with him. She was supposed to hate him enough to where she could possibly kill him if she concentrated hard enough. A tear dropped from her eye onto the emerald and silver petals of the rose and melted into its hues. She carefully placed it in a safe place no one would know of it and laid in bed, gripping her sheets to her chest as if trying to stop the sobs emitting from deep in her chest and rising up out of her mouth.

He laid there in the Room of Requirement. Nothing was there but a hammock and a window. He rested in the hammock, staring up at the ceiling and letting the moonlight touch his face. He wondered if she had looked at it yet. He knew she had found it. She was smart. Of course she had found it, but had she dared to look at it, to really look at it?

Something hit him then, when the moonlight was eclipsed by a thick cloud that she had. She knew how he felt about her, and that she had been daring enough to look at the flower. He smiled. She was a Gryffindor after all. A smile grazed his lips, but left as quickly as it came. If she was hurting because of it, he would never forgive himself. He had hurt her enough. He made a resolve then and there. He had to speak to her tomorrow during potions. He would have to straighten this all out. No more lingering and beating around the bush. Tomorrow, he would tell her.


	6. Chapter 6

**So it took me FOREVER to update but i did finally! so this is a pre-finals celebration! enjoy! and please, do review :) - FlamingRose**

She walked into class and sat down. She stared at Draco's desk, not caring who saw her do so. She missed him so much. She wished she could've written to him over the Christmas break, but of course it would be unacceptable. She missed him so much it hurt.

He walked into potions and saw her at her desk. He wanted to touch her shoulder and tell her he was fool, he wanted her back in his life as more than a friend. He wanted to tell her so many things, but he refrained from doing so. He had to do this carefully.

"Hermione," he said as he sat down.

"Draco," she responded. He smiled. He forgot how much he loved the sound of her voice. If it was possible, it sounded better every time he heard it.

"How are you this afternoon?" he asked her.

"Fine thank you," she said formally. Professor Slughorn walked in at that moment, not looking well. He wrote an old potion they had worked on a week ago on the board and coughed into his arm.

"Review today," he said in a strained voice, "gather with your lab partners." Hermione set up her cauldron as Draco came to sit next to her. They had been assigned these partners when school started and it was really the only time they were able to speak freely, just not loudly.

They worked in a tense silence until she spoke out.

"Thank you," she said, "for the flower. It was- it was gorgeous." She said.

"You're welcome," he said shyly, "did you like it?" She turned to face him.

"I loved it! How did you master such a complex charm? It's one of those things that is just so beautiful it makes you want to cry." She blushed and closed her mouth before she said anymore. She wouldn't tell him she did cry for most of the night. She turned back to her cauldron.

"Well," she said demurely, "it was beautiful." He smiled.

"I'm so glad you liked it," he said. He turned his attention to the roots he was chopping, but not for long.

"So, about when you saw me with Pansy-"

"Please, Draco," She said, hurt as the memories flooded back, "don't mention it."

"But I have to."

"No, you don't. Really."

"Yes, I do."

"Look, I get it,"

"No you don't Hermione."

"I do. You don't like getting serious with a girl. I get that."

"Would you let me finish?" he said irritated that she couldn't shut up for a second. She went silent and waited for him to continue.

"Okay, Look. I was just hurt is all." She looked at him questioningly. He continued.

"It's just that you kissed me. And when you said it didn't mean anything…" he trailed off. He was sounding stupid. He could tell by the odd way she looked at him, her eyebrows raised and staring at him in a strange manner.

"You wanted it to mean something?" she asked in disbelief. He looked at her. Well he didn't expect that sentence to come out of her mouth.

"I guess so," He said looking down and focusing intently on chopping the roots in front of him.

"Why?"He abandoned his task in exasperation. Was she kidding? She couldn't tell? My God. She was thicker than he thought.

"Because I have feelings for you!" he whispered to her intensely. He closed his mouth in a hurry and his eyes widened. He said it. He actually said it. Oh God. Now he had to hear her reject him. Oh God Oh God Oh God.

Her eyes widened in surprise and her mouth dropped open. He said what?

"There. I said it." He said awkwardly. She closed her mouth. So he had said that.

"Well," she said after what he thought to be an agonizingly long time, "I guess it kind of did mean something to me too." He looked up at her. She was serious. Yes! He smiled and she let a small smile cross her lips only for it to grow into a full blown smile; teeth, full lips, and laughter. She checked herself as Gryffindors and Slytherins began to stare at her as if she had been cursed or some odd potion had made its way into her system. They dropped their hands to their laps as they looked down and into the cauldron. She looked up at him as she felt his fingers curl around hers. He gave her a small smile only she could notice was there and they continued with their potions, occasionally stealing a held hand between steps.

Once she left the room she headed for the library. She took a book off the shelf and opened it to the first page. A piece of parchment appeared bookmarking her spot. It read: _Date? Next Hogsmeade visit? _She looked around for the culprit only to take a glimpse of a grey eye peeking out at her from the other side of the shelf. She smiled and nodded. As the boy on the other side stood up straight she could see his mouth in the form of a smile.

**I Hope you liked it! remember, reviews are like cookies and chocolate frogs: always appreciated and always craved :D**


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